


beyond all our expressions of faith

by mysticalmuddle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, OR IS IT, Slow Burn, That's Not How The Force Works, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticalmuddle/pseuds/mysticalmuddle
Summary: In attempting to investigate a mysterious Force nexus, Rey and Kylo Ren trigger an ancient power that transports them decades into the past. But they aren't the only ones removed from their rightful times; Anakin's lightsaber draws together two other parties of people linked in ways only some of them understand. To return to their own times, they must fulfill the wishes of the Force, as obscured as those wishes may be.Alternatively, three generations of Skywalkers, their trusted companions, and Rey Nobody get together, bitch each other out, and kill Palpatine(s).
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Rey & Anakin Skywalker, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 33
Kudos: 135





	1. A Delicate Desert Flower Encounters Too Much Karking Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, [Redacted]. This is for you. <333
> 
> Title taken from Mary Oliver's "Walking Home from Oak-Head".

###  Part One: The Lovely Meaninglessness of Time

> There is something  
>  about the snow-laden sky  
>  in winter  
>  in the late afternoon
> 
> that brings to the heart elation  
>  and the lovely meaninglessness  
>  of time.  
>  Whenever I get home - whenever -
> 
> —Walking Home from Oak-Head

###### 

Rey was already irritated when the low, background humming started up, intense buzzing like a steel-strut cicade stuck in a maintenance shaft. She flicked a switch on the control board, ground her head back against the headrest, and groaned. 

She couldn’t help but try, even though she knew it wouldn’t work. “Go away,” she grunted. The armrest of the pilot’s seat was peeling up in curling strips of synthleather and she picked at them, glowering.

A low curl of amusement drifted over her. “Can’t,” Kylo drawled and she saw the big, dark bulk of him from the corner of her eye. “As you know. You’ll just have to suffer my presence.”

He leaned against the back of her chair, his weight making it creak, and peered ahead. Rey swallowed down a fast and ridiculous burst of something, fear or excitement. Where Kylo was concerned, both huddled so close together that she couldn’t tell them apart anymore. 

He couldn’t see anything except what was actually ahead of him. She didn’t know if she wanted him to see what she was seeing or not.

“I’m already suffering enough,” Rey huffed out, the back of her neck hot. “You’d think the kriffing Force could feel that and have a little mercy.”

The console started warbling, a warning light strobing on and off with maddening clicks. Rey wasn’t sure what she was being warned about. Something seemed to be continuously wrong with the ship. She gave a savage kick to the base panel and that shut it up.

“It’s not for us to decide what the Force wills,” Kylo rumbled, his voice so deep and close to her ear. “It’s only our lot in life to work through it and hope it stops throwing so many wrenches into our plans.”

A second warning let out a little cry.

“I would settle for _one_ less wrench,” Rey snapped. She shoved herself up out of the pilot’s chair, slammed her foot the base of the whole control panel, and stomped off towards the main electrical unit, where there was apparently a small fire burning.

“I can see that,” Kylo said. He followed behind her in slow strides as she tore off one of the insulator panels, stared in disgust at the perfectly fine and unmelted wiring, and tried not to scream.

“You’re not on the Falcon,” he said, a guess hidden as a statement. Some of his calm gathered against her, brushing at her burning frustration, and she waved a hand in front of her face like that could bat it away.

“I would strip every single nut, bolt, wire, and panel off this ship if it meant I could be on the Falcon,” Rey muttered. Another alarm started screaming and she grit her teeth. “I’d crash this ship in the Badlands and take it apart by hand if it meant I was flying the Falcon instead. I’d trade this ship in for a single bloody half-portion if I could!”

She choked down the shriek that threatened to bubble out, stomped back to the control panel, and started kicking it furiously. Her foot hurt. There was a dent in the durasteel. One of the alarms died with a whine, then the second one followed and she slumped forward, braced her hands on the plastic edge, and huffed out a tremulous breath.

She could feel Kylo looking at her; an itch high up on her back made her squirm her shoulder blades around like that could dislodge him. “Either do something useful or fuck off,” she said even though she knew Kylo didn’t really deserve it.

“Of course,” Kylo said, all bottled-up practised courtesy. “Provide me with your coordinates and I will dispatch a ship to your location immediately.”

“Oh, switch off!” Rey shouted and threw herself back into the pilot’s seat. The coordinates were still set to whatever backwater hole Luke had directed her to, where she was supposed to be meditating at a Force nexus.

Where in reality she was supposed to think about being punished, how much it sucked, and how she should strenuously avoid transgressing again. And Rey admitting that it was already working. Sneaking off to do battle with Kylo was not worth having to trust that this piece of shit ship wouldn’t suddenly die in hyperspace.

“Punished for what?” Kylo breathed in her ear. She hadn't even felt him lift away the thought. He leaned down, arms braced on her chair, and she felt the soft press of his forehead against the crown of her head.

“Your fault anyway,” she muttered sourly, dredging up Luke’s incredulous expression when he realized that Rey had in fact followed Kylo to Korriban and attempted to shove him down a tuk’ata’s throat.

“Hmm,” Kylo said and exhaled in a low rush that ruffled her hair. 

All the hair on the back of Rey’s neck stood up and she slid lower in her seat, crossing her arms tightly.

“He took me on plenty of research trips when I was young,” Kylo went on. Rey could hear the smile in his voice. She gnashed her teeth, trying not to laugh as Kylo showed her a similar picture of Luke, younger but wearing the same exasperated expression. “And while my behavior was sometimes found wanting, he hardly discounted the entire idea. Shame he isn’t too fond of them this time around.”

“It’s less the destination,” Rey grumbled, “and more the company.”

“Ah. Well, that can’t be helped. You’re hardly going to run off to ancient Sith temples with anyone else.”

“I could take Finn,” Rey huffed. Kylo was always so smug, like she’d ever choose to be yoked to him. “It’s not like you’re my _only_ choice.”

“Try that and see how well it works out,” Kylo said flatly. He tweaked her hair, and she slapped his hand away, then leaned back again. Hyperspace flew by just outside the view shield, starry drags of blue and white blooming open and shuttering past them. “So he’s exiled you for daring to reach beyond his teachings?”

“He sent me away, _briefly_ , to find my balance in the Force again,” Rey said. She lolled her head back. “Apparently ancient Sith temples aren’t good for that. Too much darksider influence.”

Kylo snorted and Rey felt the corner of her mouth quirk up. “And my presence hardly helped.”

“Yeah,” Rey agreed. “He really got stuck on that part.”

“Did you tell him you tried very valiantly to kill me?”

“Funny,” Rey said and laughed. “That didn’t seem to help. Apparently I’m just supposed to stay away from you and your corrupting influences.”

“How,” Kylo demanded, low and offended in her ear, “does destroying dangerous Sith holocrons count as ‘corrupting’?”

“Well, the part where we tried to learn something from them first,” Rey said and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even bother to mention that part, anyway. He didn’t seem pleased when I tried to kill you. I don’t want to know how he’d react if he learned we actually worked together.”

“Probably just like this,” Kylo said fondly. “He was always fond of breaking apart troublemakers.”

“Are we troublemakers?” Rey asked. “I thought we were enemies.”

“Mm,” Kylo said. Just a deep hum. “He can try to separate us all he likes,” he went on. “Fortunately grounding you—” and the thought of a small, clean room as the door slammed shut on someone shouting “—is not guaranteed to work.”

“Grounding me,” Rey said sulkily. Wasn’t that something that happened on holodramas to little kids?

“A popular punishment among parents and guardians,” Kylo said. “An amateur attempt at isolation torture.” 

Rey gathered up a thought; the wind rushing around outside her AT-AT, knocking against the walls and leaking through tiny cracks as she swung idly in her hammock. Her stomach full of polystarch and veg-meat, three half-portions thrown across her metal table. Water buried in the southern corner. Alone, but not unhappy with it. 

Kylo whispered into her mind. His own little room bloomed before her eyes as he bent over a desk, soldering together two tiny metal pieces. So briefly free of responsibility and judgement, allowed to please himself with whatever work he liked.

Some of the tension leaked out of Rey’s spine. She tilted her head back and smiled at Kylo. Alone, but in a peaceful way. Yes, he understood.

“I wouldn’t even mind,” Rey said after a moment, watching the upside-down curve of his mouth. “Not that much. Not if it weren’t for this karking ship. It’s a piece of shit, Kylo, and that comes from someone who used to repair things that should have been decommissioned a century ago.”

“My offer stands,” Kylo said, still not looking down at her. He rounded the chair to crouch next to her, his stupid cape fanning out around him. His eyes were dark; they caught the light of hyperspace strangely. His whole body, and hers too, Rey knew, were limned in the pale blue light.

It felt familiar. She blinked rapidly and rubbed her eyes. “I’ll never surrender to the First Order,” she said and Kylo nudged her knee with a gloved hand.

“Would you take another trip with a friend?” he asked curiously. He was still amused, and it leaked over into her a little. The bond fluttered between them. 

“We’re not friends,” Rey said but there wasn’t any bite to it. She stared forward again, watching the galaxy drone by. “And Master Luke sent me here as punishment for our last little trip.”

“Sent you where, exactly?” Kylo pressed. He kept looking at her; she caught it in little glances from the corner of her eye. Where else was he going to look? She was the only thing he could see on the whole ship.

“Why, going to bomb the place?” she asked teasingly, and Kylo blinked at her, perturbed.

“No, I’m going to make sure you land there without your ship exploding.”

“Sweet of you,” Rey said dryly, but snuck out another quick look at the bond. He was anxious in a nebulous way she’d come to associate with herself. Either from fighting her, or waiting to fight her, or fighting with her. Or, whatever it was that she did which made him moody and upset sometimes. There wasn’t really a pattern in the randomness.

“I try,” Kylo said, but he was still staring at her too intently, his head tilted just a little to the side. “Where are you going? Truly, Rey.”

He so rarely said her name. Rey stared straight ahead, trying to ignore how hot her face felt. His hand was back on her knee, fingers curled over her leg. She relaxed her jaw and rubbed at her eyes again.

“It’d make it pretty awkward if I was sent there to get away from your influence and came back with you in binders.” 

“You could certainly try,” Kylo said and she just knew he was laughing at her. “Shall I provide a pair? They probably aren’t standard kit on a piece of shit like this.”

Rey laughed. Kylo burst with smugness. “Switch off,” she said and flicked his hand. “Are you going to show up if I tell you?”

“Despite your musings otherwise, I am not exactly a free agent,” Kylo drawled teasingly, and Rey jerked. 

She felt cold suddenly. The humor was gone so fast it left her vaguely nauseous and she groped for her composure. Kylo wasn’t. He wasn’t a free agent, not even if he made her feel better about shitty things. Not even if he made her laugh.

Snoke’s ghost stood between them suddenly, an oily stain as both of them thought of him at the same time. The bond writhed unpleasantly. Snoke probably liked that she just let Kylo right in, like some stupid little glitbiter. 

Rey shoved Kylo’s hand off her knee and tried not to be so stupid.

“That has nothing to do with _this_ ,” he said hotly and she felt reassurance she didn’t want leaking through the bond. Something warm and thick as ground-bee honey. “I only meant that my movements are controlled.”

“Yes, because he’s _still_ holding your leash,” Rey spit. She shoved it all way; the uneasy comfort of seeing him, the bubbling amusement he’d given her over her ‘research trip’, the lingering laughter-memory of Kylo standing next to her on Ashla as the chunks of stone ruins rose and rotated around them. 

How he pressed his hand against her back on Korriban as he guided her down the right hallway, and how easily he passed his lightsaber over his shoulder to her as the Sithspawn crawled closer.

Kylo was still her enemy, not her ally. So what if they fought well together? “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “Thanks for the visit. Goodbye.”

A light on the console flickered on when it shouldn’t have. Rey bent over it, fussing with the plastic casing around the lightbulb, trying to dig her ragged fingernails under it and pop it off.

Kylo huffed through his nose. He sounded a little outraged when he demanded, “Are you just going to ignore me until this ends?”

“Great idea,” Rey growled back. “I’ll take that under consideration.”

The plastic cover cracked into two brittle pieces and she dropped it on the floor in disgust. Karking piece of bantha shit was literally falling apart. She unscrewed the lightbulb. Maker, hyperspace could be boring.

“Scavenger,” Kylo fumed. 

“Goodbye!” Rey said loudly, just in the vague hopes that it worked. Maybe the Force would take a hint.

“Rey,” Kylo tried again, and it wasn’t at all fair that he could say her name like that. Like it meant something to him. His anxiousness slid along the bond in slow drips until her heart was hammering in her chest.

She darted a glance at him. He met her eyes at once and said, “I’ll be respectful. Please. Where are you going?”

“Force nexus,” she muttered. And she was going to be the only one there; what did it matter if Kylo knew? She’d escaped him once and she could do it again. “On Alzoc III.”

“A snow planet,” Kylo murmured. His fingers brushed her knee again. “I hope you—”

Rey didn’t learn whatever he hoped; Kylo disappeared and the only sound left was her own breathing and the hum of the engines as the ship flew. 

“Great,” Rey muttered to herself. “Just great.”

On the control board, an alarm started to screech.

* * *

Alzoc III was a snow planet. Alzoc III was a nothing-but-snow planet. Rey stood in front of the view shield, staring at piles and mounds and banks and hills of snow and wanted to cry.

Luke told her this was a chance to think about her choices, not a punishment. Luke _lied_.

The ship had a single emergency supply closet. Rey leaned over to it, feet placed carefully on the exposed crossbeams, and dug out a cold-weather jacket old enough to vote in the original Republic. She shoved a handful of ration bars into its pockets, and made sure her lightsaber was clipped onto her belt. 

She could do this. It was just snow. She could do this.

She slammed the release button on the loading ramp, bouncing on her feet nervously, and felt a blast of wind blow over her.

At least no one was around to hear her shriek like that. Her face was too numb to tell if she was blushing or not. 

Alright, alright, R’iia’s windy tits was it cold. The jacket didn’t really help. Maybe she couldn’t do this. The ramp slammed shut. Maybe she could stay in the ship a little while, go back home, and lie to Luke.

The idea had merit. She’d gotten here, at least. The ship could confirm it. And if Luke found out, he’d understand; Leia said he grew up on a desert planet, too. And if Luke didn’t understand she could just drag them both back out here and shove him into the snow. See him argue then.

She struggled back out of the puffy jacket, sneezing from the clouds of dust, and threw it onto the floor. Stars, she could hear the howl of the wind outside the ship still as it beat against the hull. It was so fierce it almost reminded her of home.

The life systems were still engaged. Rey smacked an emergency light on and started to make her way back to the cockpit, avoiding the parts of floor that weren’t floor, just holes with wires underneath.

Halfway there, a sound broke over the wind, and she froze. A rock or something, thrown by the wind. 

The sound came again. Something knocking on the outside of her ship.

Luke didn’t say someone would meet her. It was impossible for Kylo to get here in such a short time; he would’ve had to be practically sitting on the planet. Did, _could_ people even live in a place like this?

Snow fell outside the view shield in thick sheets. She didn’t want to open the door again. She’d freeze to death in about ten seconds.

It knocked again, a polite little _rat rat rat_.

Maybe they were stranded. Their ship had crashed. They were actually freezing to death. A good Jedi would let them in. Rey was—

Rey was not actually a Jedi. She slapped the thought away, irritated. The whole ship rocked gently as a strong gust crashed into it.

Alright, so a good person would let them in. Rey was a good person. She bit her lip, shrugged the jacket back on, and pulled her saber off the clip. Rey was a good person, but she did grow up on Jakku. She held her arm out, a little stiffly, and slapped the release again.

The hydraulic hinges on the ramp were so karking slow. She stamped her feet to work some feeling back into them and peered into the snow. When something moved in it, something big and fuzzy and white, she gasped and jerked back. She snapped her lightsaber on.

The thing, whatever it was, made a long warble followed by several rapid clicks. It reached a paw up, touched a delicate claw to its metal collar, and clicked a button. A fussy male voice, Corescanti accent crisp, said, “Please do not be alarmed. I have come to ensure your safety and survival.”

More wind wracked her body with shivers. The big thing blinked at her in a friendly kind of way, and vocalized again. The vocabulator strung as a collar around its thick neck said, “You are currently clothed in an unsuitable manner for this environment. Please come with me before you sustain irreversible damage.”

It held out a big fuzzy paw, tiny black claws wickedly sharp at the ends of its fingers, and made an encouraging sound that apparently didn’t have a translation.

The lightsaber cast everything in a sickly blue light. Rey shut it off and considered. “I’m looking for the Force nexus,” she said slowly.

“Yes. You have come to see the Lake of All Things,” it said politely, paw still beckoning.

Another sharp blast of wind cut through her jacket and straight to her skin. Rey bit back a shriek of horror at the sheer cold of it. Karking Starkiller hadn’t been this cold even! She didn’t want to stand there any longer, freezing to death. She darted down the ramp, sending it to slam closed after her. 

“I’d like to get out of the wind,” Rey gasped, taking its hand. Her fingers were swallowed in immediate warmth. Snowflakes were catching on her eyelashes. “Please.”

The creature warbled at her again, a comforting sound, and started to tug her through the snow. It soaked through her trousers and prickled burningly at her legs as she was swallowed up to her knees. 

The clearing she had landed in wasn’t as empty as she’d thought from the air. Tucked near the edge of the forest with massive trees blocking out any hint of the horizon were a series of packed snow huts, rounded roofs just barely peeking over the thick layer already on the ground. 

They were all letting out delicious smelling smoke. Rey scrubbed ice crystals off her eyelashes and trotted after her guide.

They went directly to the middle hut, steep steps carved out into the compacted snow leading down to a durasteel door. Her guide had to duck to enter but Rey walked right in, swallowing down her nerves.

It was stunningly warm inside. Heat slapped at her face. Her ears burned. Snow melted out of her hair and her nose started to drip. 

There were lots of other creatures in there, huddled around a burning sterno barrel. They all looked up, and her guide vocalized happily at them—”Greetings! I have retrieved our guest!”—and tugged Rey closer to the fire. One of them gave up their place so she could reach it and Rey shoved her hands over the warmth, sighing. 

“Hi,” she said to the creature she was sitting next to. Feeling was rushing back into her toes. She flexed them in her boots and wiped her nose on her sleeve. 

The creatures couldn’t smile; they had proboscides. But it nodded at her, blinking its large second set of eyes, and another one brought her a fur that it settled over her shoulders carefully.

Her guide and another creature tucked up in a corner with a fur over its lap were having a low conversation. Rey looked away, not wanting them to think she was eavesdropping, and stroked the soft edge of the thick grey fur cover. She didn’t think she had ever felt anything softer. She rubbed her cheek against it, sighed again in deep pleasure, and felt all the tense muscles in her back relax.

Her guide was trading the vocabulator to its friend now, and one of the creatures tugged Rey up and arranged her on a rough wooden stool closer to the friend. Closer now and warming rapidly, she could focus enough to feel the Force rolling off of it in gentle waves. It warbled, voice deeper than her guide, and the vocabulator clicked to life again.

“Welcome to our domicile,” the fussy voice said. “Please do not engage your weapon for the duration of your stay.”

“Oh,” Rey said. She touched her lightsaber nervously and nodded. “Sure. Um, sorry.”

The creature made a graceful motion with its paws and patted her hand where it lay in her lap. “Thank you, honored guest. There is no offense. We are a peaceful people.” It tilted its head, an oddly delicate gesture. “I sense you feel some unease.”

“Yes,” Rey said. She brushed a hand over her cheek, feeling it heat up with embarrassment. This was the exact kind of thing Luke never warned her about. “I didn’t, uh, know that people lived here. I’m sorry, I would have brought a translator for myself if I knew.”

“Few people discuss our planet in these times,” the creature said. “Fewer visit here. There is no offense. Please, I am called Hetop, a Talz of Alzoc.”

“I’m Rey,” Rey said. “A human of Jakku.”

“But that is not all you are,” Hetop said. Her big second eyes peered at her carefully. “You are something else. A—”

She warbled, ending in a low, deep chirp that seemed to stump the vocabulator. There was a quick conversation with Rey’s guide, who spread their hands and offered several options. 

“A seeker,” Hetop settled on. “A pilgrim to this place.” Those deep black eyes looked into Rey, a brush of sensation across the inside of her mind. Not a violation; she felt little desire to push it away. It was more a greeting, a meeting between two similar creatures in the same dunes.

Hetop made a noise, and Rey knew what she said even as the vocabulator stayed stubbornly silent.

Je’daii.

The title cracked down against her. Like she had when the Sith ghost had named her on Korriban, Rey flinched. Her nails bit into her palms, her hands aching at how tightly she clenched them.

The old Jedi were child-stealers and they were masters and they were afraid of the Force. Of parts of it that Rey couldn’t help but carry with her. She didn’t want to be one of them.

Hetop hummed deep in her throat. “Yes,” she said. “Je’daii of the old. I feel it in you.”

She held out her paw and Rey hesitated, then reached out. Those thin fingers swathed in deep fur wrapped around hers, talons just the faintest prick against her skin. “Yes,” Hetop said again gently. “The Lake of All Things has given you a name. Bendu,” she said and Rey heard it in her head rather than out loud, a warm wise voice that conveyed a depth of emotion the translator voice had hidden.

Gratitude. Fondness. Awe.

Rey had never even met these people before. They didn’t even know her; what gave them the right to feel like she was important? 

“You have traveled far,” Hetop said. “And you will travel farther still, Je’daii na Bendu. But tonight you will rest and wait.”

Rey licked at her lip nervously. “Wait for what?” she asked.

The vocabulator hid the humor in Hetop’s voice; Rey felt it flow out of her like warm sunlight on her face. “Your other,” Hetop said. “He who carries the darkness, as you carry the light. Does he not come?”

“He’d better not,” Rey said sullenly. Of course they wanted Kylo as well. There was never going to be someone who just wanted her. She crossed her arms over her chest and ducked her chin down, chewing at her lip. If he tried to show up here, she’d beat him into the snow.

Hetop trilled, and her guide, still standing patiently to the side, made the same noise. Laughter, Rey thought with irritation.

“We will see,” Hetop said. “You will stay here as my guest. Come, and eat, and rest. The time for journeying is not yet upon us.”

There was another warm brush across her mind, an offered thought held out tenderly for Rey to take or not as she liked. She plucked it up carefully, and that same wise ancient voice told her, “But the time will come, Je’daii na Bendu. The center must bring stillness; it cannot be still itself.”

Later as she curled into a nest of more incredibly soft furs, her stomach full of stew and her eyes hot for want of sleep, Rey told herself it meant nothing. But as she fell asleep she saw a lake as distant and cold and frozen as a far-away asteroid. Silvery waves crashed against its shores. And it called to her.


	2. In Which Too Much Importance Is Placed On Footwear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officer, I swear there's no foot fetish stuff in this! The boot was just convenient! Convenient I say!

###  Part One: Continued

Rey woke up just as he spread his cloak over her and tucked the edge up near her cheek. She made a little noise in her throat, unfamiliar softness and familiar scent, then scrambled awake in one half-panicked burst. 

Kylo was crouched next to her and he steadied her shoulder with a hand. The smoldering fire in the sterno barrel slung strange shadows across his face. “Easy,” he said in a low whisper. “Easy, it’s just me.”

Rey frowned at him and rubbed at her eyes. “Doesn’t usually do this when we sleep,” she said hoarsely. His cloak was heavy over the fur wrap. She touched the hem of it, blinking at him slowly. It was damp under her fingers.

“No,” Kylo agreed, still holding her shoulder. She could feel just the smallest burst of smugness. When he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, the leather was cold enough to make her hiss and pull away. She squinted at him, considering.

Hetop ducked in through the door, shutting it behind herself, and chirped at them happily. “Yes,” Kylo said to her, the silver bug of a First Order translation unit just visible in the shell of his ear. “I’m sorry I did,” he said mildly. “I was trying to be quiet.”

It was true then. The enormous idiot had actually shown up.

Rey groaned low in her throat and shoved him hard enough to tip him over onto his ass. He smiled at her, lip curled up to show a single sharp canine. “I told you not to come,” she spat in a low whisper.

“And I said I’d be respectful,” Kylo said. Snow was melting down his face and flattening his dark hair to his cheek. “It’s hardly respectful to let you freeze to death in the snow.”

Rey had tucked her boots next to her head, in easy reach. “Is that so,” she sputtered, trying to keep her voice down. She groped for one, keeping her eye on him and his unbearably pleased look. When she snagged just the tips of her fingers in the laces, she jerked her arm and let it fly. It crashed into Kylo’s chest with a satisfying thud and he grunted, hands coming up to catch it.

Hetop came and leaned over them, watching with a concerned chitter. Her arms were filled with more grey furs. She brushed against Rey’s mind gently, like a hand smoothing across her cheek, and crooned out something in her native speech.

Kylo turned his head to watch her attentively and told Rey, “She says it’s still the middle of the night cycle. She wants you to go back to sleep.”

Rey’s little nest on the floor of their meeting hall gave her some privacy. She was the only one sleeping in there, but Hetop and Kylo were still talking in low voices like there was anyone left to wake up. She yawned, hand over her mouth, and said, “You’re the one who woke me up in the first place.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kylo said. He set her boot down carefully and told Hetop, “No, this is fine.”

“What’s fine?” Rey asked and tugged the fur and the cloak higher up around her shoulders.

But Hetop ignored her, passing down the furs to Kylo and making another graceful gesture with her paws. She warbled hopefully, ending in a decisive click. “Yes, in the morning,” Kylo said. “Thank you, principle elder.”

A dismissive wave of her fingers and a barely visible wink of those big second eyes. And then Hetop left, shutting the door carefully behind herself.

“Isn’t she going to show you where to sleep?” Rey asked. Everything had a strange surreal quality to it she couldn’t quite shake. Kylo set the furs down carefully, put her boot back with its mate, and looked at her. 

“She already did,” he said, amusement hiding in the words. His eyes were deep black shadows. They could hide any emotion in the depth of them; Rey reached out nervously, a reflex, and touched the bond. 

She felt him reach out to meet her, smoothing over her sudden anxiety like wind smoothing over footsteps in the sand. He was smug, pleased. Fond. “It’s just me,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

Rey snorted. “For now at least,” Kylo amended. He bent over and undid the catches on his boots. Rey lay back down, watching him as he lined them up neatly next to hers. He peeled his gloves off next. She closed her eyes with the force of another yawn and when she opened them again he was kneeling and spreading out his furs.

It took her a second, brain turning over like an engine that refused to start. But when she realized, she jolted bolt-upright again. “No,” she said and the thin panic in her voice made her wince.

Kylo paused with his head ducked down. He peered at her through his lashes. “No?” he asked, confused. The edges of his bedding brushed hers.

“No, you cannot possibly sleep right there next to me,” Rey said, clutching at the cloak until her knuckles went white. The cloak— _his_ cloak. She bit her lip, whipped it off of herself, and threw it at him.

He caught it and looked at her again. He could have been anyone in the flickering light, a stranger; her anxiety mounted. “It’s a small hut,” Kylo said and smoothed his fingers over the cloak.

It was the communal meeting pace for the Talz and they weren’t small creatures. “No, it’s really not!” Rey squeaked.

“You’re right,” Kylo said. “It’s not.” He stared at her, hard eye contact that had her face burning, why was he _always_ trying intimidation tactics on her? He spread out a second fur on top of the first.

“Well, I was here first,” Rey said. “You, you go over there.” She pointed to the far side of the sterno barrel. 

“Mm,” Kylo said, a soft noise in his throat. He crawled onto his bedding, spread the cloak out from the wadded ball Rey had made of it, and said, “No. I don’t think I will.”

She couldn’t back down. She was here first which meant this spot was hers. That was the law!

“Fine,” she snapped, jerked the fur around herself tightly, and rolled over until her back was to him. He could sleep there all he wanted but he couldn’t make her look at him or talk to him or even acknowledge his karking existence.

When his cloak drifted over her again she reached up a hand to jerk it away. “Don’t,” Kylo said. She dug her fingers into the fabric tightly. “I know you want it.”

She did, damn her. It was heavy and warm and even curled into half a dozen furs she was still vaguely cold. When another fur landed over her, spread carefully, she huffed through her nose.

“Payment,” Kylo said from behind her. “For encroaching on your territory.”

Rey curled up tighter under it and bit her lip to keep from saying anything. She heard the faint rustle of clothes as Kylo lay down and then he sighed heavily.

The collar of the cloak lay against her cheek. She rubbed her face against it, just a little, and clutched it to herself tighter. It was soft. Not as soft as the furs but still softer than almost any clothes she’d ever owned.

“Not getting it back,” she mumbled. 

Kylo laughed, and she glowered at the wall. “Isn’t that the first rule of the desert?” he drawled. “Finders keepers?”

Rey shut her eyes instead of answering. She tucked the collar up against her cheek and under her fingers and drowsed. Kylo breathed in and out behind her, slow and measured. The room was dark and she was warm and she had to blink her eyes open like they were glued together when he rumbled out, “Did you dream of it?”

She sighed deeply, worked her floppy limbs into order, and rolled back over to look at him. Kylo was lying on his back, hands folded across his stomach as he studied the ceiling. “Dream of what?” Rey asked.

“The lake,” Kylo said. 

Rey stretched out towards him, a deliberately light touch, and he obliged her, bringing up a picture to the forefront of his thoughts. They looked at the frozen lake and dark rocky shore. 

“Mine had waves,” she mumbled. She added them to the picture, frothy silver curls that crashed against the shore and misted the air. “Hetop said that was the Lake of All Things.”

“The Force nexus?” Kylo mused.

“Hope so,” Rey said. She let her eyelids drag shut again. “Don’t wanna know why they call it that if it isn’t.”

Kylo shifted around, another whisper of cloth. “It calls to us,” he said. 

“Calls to you, maybe,” Rey muttered. The space between her shoulder blades itched. She peeled her eyes back open and stared back at him. The corner of his mouth was lifted, just a little. Firelight turned the sharp panes of his face soft rose and rusty gold.

“By all means, keep pretending you’re exempt from this if it makes you feel better,” he told her. Smugly. Her boots were too far away to throw and she was too sleepy to sit up and drag them over. Rey wrinkled her nose at him instead.

“You can’t hide from me,” Kylo said. He tapped a finger against his temple. “It calls to the both of us. I was right to come.”

“Still gonna beat you into the snow,” Rey said. “Do it right now if you don’t shut and lemme sleep.”

“We’ll see,” Kylo said. He reached out and almost touched her fingers where they curled his cloak up near her face. She felt the heat of his hand, the ghost of the touch he didn’t give her, before he pulled away. “Try and remember your dreams tonight.”

Rey yawned hard enough to make her jaw ache. “You’re the Skywalker,” she said grouchily. “ _You_ have the creepy visions of the future.”

He laughed low and deep and she squirmed until she could tuck her face into her bedding, until she could just barely see the shadow of him. She was warm. It felt nice, to finally be warm. 

“Goodnight,” he said. Rey huffed through her nose, and let her eyes slide shut again. She wasn’t going to dream. She refused to give Kylo something else to be smug about.

* * *

“Hold still,” she said, tugging at Rey’s hair gently. “I have to get this just right or it’ll look crooked when you stand up.”

Rey squirmed uncomfortably and ran her fingers over the soft velvet of the cushion she knelt on. From very far away she felt her mouth open and heard herself say, “I still don’t understand why _I_ have to do this. You know I'll be the worst at it.”

“Because I have too much of a family resemblance,” she said and Rey felt her slide another cool metal pin into her hair. “And you don’t. You look like nobody.”

Rey wanted to stand and turn around. She wanted to scream out _I am! I am nobody!_ Behind Rey’s back, she tilted Rey’s shoulder just so and said, “And that’s a good thing. Imagine if we had to make up another Naberrie cousin out of nowhere. Poor Eirtaé would have a fit. Now, tell me if this pinches.”

“No,” Rey said, “no, it doesn’t.”

“I agree,” he said as he maneuvered her carefully through all the other couples dancing together. “But there’s nothing we can do except to bear it.”

He spun her out then pulled her back again carefully. Rey looked down at the slick shimmersilk twirling around her legs and then back up. Crystal light sparkled all around them. She just caught the edge of his smile. “You’re doing very well,” he said. 

“It’s just like fighting,” Rey said when she wanted to peel open her mouth, all caked in something waxy, and scream _Who are you? Where am I? Who are all these people drinking green wine and dancing while the galaxy burns down?_

He laughed and nodded. “So,” he said as they spun around in slow dreamy circles, “if your master hasn’t been teaching you diplomacy and dancing, what _has_ he been teaching you?”

 _Luke!_ Rey cried in her head. Her traitorous mouth smiled and said, “Lifting rocks. Lots of lifting rocks.”

“An interesting approach,” he said as the music changed. He guided her out, arm extended, and her fingertips just barely left his as she stumbled across the clotting vines and sharp rocks into the dark.

The thin slippers were useless. Her feet ached, but she could move them. She could kick out against the thin silk skirts covering her legs and look around as the forest tried to eat the fence in front of her.

Trees so tall she couldn’t reach even their lowest branches arched over her head and three fat moons peering down between the high arches. They cast down enough light that she could barely pick her way forward towards the clearing ahead.

There was someone standing there, someone she knew. Maker help her, her heart slammed with relief in her chest. “Kylo!” she shouted and hiked her long skirts up so she could run better. “Kylo, what’s happening!”

He jerked around, dressed as strangely and as richly as she was. “Rey,” he said and held out a hand, a gentle touch with the Force that helped her approach over the hills and valleys of coiled vines. Their skin sparked when she came close enough to press her fingers to his. His gloves were gone. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. She took another step closer and he pulled until she was tucked just under the curve of his arm, pressed against his side.

The change startled her. She gripped at the tunic he was wearing, so slick under her fingers that her callouses caught on it, and said, “I was dancing, I was—”

She craned her neck to peer up at him. Kylo was staring straight ahead, frowning. He was so warm; the dress she was wearing was useless against the cool air. Her arms broke into goosebumps. “Something’s happening,” she said fiercely. “I don’t know what.”

“It’s just the house,” he said and his hand smoothed over her bare shoulder. “Look, can you see it?”

She peered ahead through the dark. There was a house beyond the ancient fence that the vines were trying to take back. It rose up over the thick brush in pale stone columns and delicate curling lines that seemed to defy gravity as they turned and flowered.

And there was something wrong with it; the strange architecture seemed to writhe like crawling worms. Rey swayed dizzily and tucked her face into Kylo’s side, swallowing down the sudden mouthful of spit. Throwing up was a waste of water.

“I know,” Kylo said gently and stroked her shoulder again. R’iia he was warm. Like the sun. How was it always so cold everywhere, but touching him felt like lying back into the sand on Jakku?

“It’s bad,” she said stupidly, grabbing at his shirt. “The house. This _place_. Don’t, don’t go over there.”

“We won’t,” he said. His heart was thundering under her ear. His voice came strangely from his chest when she was pressing up against him like this. “We’ll wait until tomorrow to find out what’s in there.”

Yes, Rey thought. Tomorrow, when they could go with— 

With—

“Kylo,” she said desperately. He was looking at her now, his eyes soft with concern. She pulled herself away from him until he didn’t touch her at all. She touched the bond, a reflex, and felt an echo so far away it hurt her to grasp at it.

“You poor child,” someone said from behind her, all kind condescension and solicitousness. “He’s not actually there, you know.”

She jerked around to stare. “Who’re you?” Rey demanded and her hand dropped to the hilt of her lightsaber, clipped to the belt she wore over rough heavy robes.

The enormous stone hall behind him rose up into blackness so high that the thin orange light couldn’t touch it. He slid back his hood, looking at her closely, and smiled. His teeth should be worn down, rotting, Rey thought. They were straight and white and even and her head swam.

“Rude,” he chastised with a little click of his tongue. _Tch_. Rey cringed back as her cheeks went hot. “But I suppose I couldn’t have very high hopes, considering your unfortunate origins. Still, I had hoped the lack of their influence might make you less like your parents.”

Rey swallowed. Her boots thudded against the stone floor as she took a step forward and drew her lightsaber. “I’m _nothing_ like my parents,” she spat.

“You’re exactly like them,” he said. “A little idiot playing at things you don’t understand. They thought the Force would answer them if they dared defy me and they died on the ground like the crawling worms they were.”

He cocked his head to the side, and his eyes were yellow like sulfur, like burning sunlight. “Would you like to die the same way?” he asked. “Playing pretend with a title you don’t actually deserve, Je’daii na Bendu?”

Her saber ignited into two brilliant blue beams. “I guess we’ll see,” Rey said and took another step forward into—

Daylight. Thin, weak daylight fell across her face. Maker she was sweating through her clothes. There was something heavy stacked on top of her. She clawed it off, peeled herself away from the furnace next to her, and panted into the cooler air.

She wiped sweat off her face, hands trembling, and tried to remember what she had been dreaming about. She had been dancing, no, falling. Someone had been with her.

An arm snaked around her waist. The enormous hand at the end of it splayed against her stomach. She looked down at it, confused, and then threw herself away and crashed her knees painfully against the hard floor.

“You!” she said, shoving an accusing finger at Kylo. He blinked at her, mouth still soft and confused with sleep, and rubbed his face.

“Are you alright?” he rasped. “You feel—” 

Rey felt him brush the bond and slapped the contact away so hard it made both their heads spin, feeding into each other dizzily. Their bedding was all wadded together into a nest with a perfect Rey-sized spot next to him. She flushed furiously. “I told you to sleep over there for a reason!” she shouted. 

“You didn’t say it was because you cling like a Kowakian monkey-lizard,” Kylo said. His hair was sticking up in short little spikes and there was a seam print on his cheek. Rey jerked her eyes away and huffed.

“Well you put out heat like a dwarf star,” she snapped and scrambled to her feet. The thin layer of sweat all down her back was already drying. Her thoughts spun wildly, the world woozy and unreal and hyper-saturated in the wake of her dream, and she struggled to focus. 

“You didn’t seem to mind before,” Kylo said. “You stopped shivering, at least. Are you that cold all the time?”

She just needed to think. “Yeah,” she muttered blankly. Focus! What were her priorities? Water; she was thirsty. Food. There were protein rations stuffed in her coat. She felt like the world was tilted to the left and she was sliding along the floor.

Rey ground her heels into her eyes, felt itching between her shoulder blades, and snapped, “Stop looking at me.”

“Stop making me concerned, then,” Kylo said. She heard him moving around and felt him stroke along the bond again. “You aren’t actually upset about sleeping with me,” he murmured cautiously.

She didn’t have control over the noise that tore itself out of her throat. Rey jerked her head up and glowered. “Next to you!” she snarled. “I slept next to you!” She glared at him furiously.

“I,” he said. He turned red and swallowed harshly. “Yes, sleeping next to me. I apologize.”

“You’d better,” Rey said and put her head back down. The longer she sat on the floor, the colder she was getting. She hunched her shoulders in and drew her legs up. Kylo sucked in a breath.

“Something happened while you were sleeping,” he guessed slowly, like a man piloting his way through an asteroid field. Good. He should be more careful with his words; she’d die if he said something so stupid again. She'd kill him. “A vision?” he asked delicately but she could hear the eagerness in his voice.

“A dream,” Rey muttered back, her face mashed against her knees. “Just a weird dream.”

“Do your dreams usually disorient you this much?”

“No,” Rey said. She didn't like the tidy rational way he pointed that out. She peered at him over her kneecaps. “But wouldn’t I remember it if it was a vision?”

“Not unless the Force wills it.”

“The Force,” Rey griped. “It’s always the Force with you. The Force is useless.”

Kylo raised his eyebrows at her. “Now there’s my uncle’s influence,” he said. Something rose from the pile of gear near his boots and floated over to her. His canteen, sloshing full of water.

Rey snatched it up and took two quick gulps. She wiped her mouth off with her arm and sighed. “I managed just fine without it for nineteen years,” she said.

Kylo nodded solemnly. “But consider yourself and your life now that you’ve gained some mastery over it. Before you simply survived your circumstances; now you control them.”

He stood up and came closer. She felt heat coming off him like a radiator, he stood so close to her as he draped his cloak around her shoulders again. “Wonoksh Qyâsik nun,” he said hoarsely.

“Don’t,” Rey said tiredly as she gripped the edge of his cloak. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

He breathed out through his nose and nodded again. “Whatever you like,” he conceded. “This is _your_ excursion; I’m entirely at your disposal.”

“Are we taking turns now?” Rey quipped. “I guess it is my turn, but I think after the mess you made of Korriban I should get two.” She dragged the image of the pack of tuk’ata to the front of her mind as they’d paced and growled below her unsteady perch in the ruins.

Kylo rolled his eyes and added in her voice, thinner than she remembered and more echoey as she shouted, "Nice doggies!" down at them. Her face in his memory was more dramatically hopeful than she thought it had been.

The heavy air in the room broke into something lighter. She giggled then slapped a hand over her mouth. When Kylo laughed back, all the fine hairs on the back of her neck lay back down.

“Perhaps,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling up.

“Well if we are, you should tell me about your weird dreams now. Visions. Whatever they are.”

“I don’t dream,” Kylo said. “Not often, anyway. I thought that might change with this.” He tugged at her, a soft pull in the back of her mind.

“The bond,” Rey sighed, and unfolded herself. Kylo was looking down at her still, red clinging to the bones of his cheeks, and he held out his hand. She slapped his canteen into it and stood carefully, testing her legs to make sure she wouldn’t keel back over again.

“There have been instances of dream-sharing between bond mates,” Kylo said. “I found a fascinating text on the matter.”

“You never said.” Rey frowned. “Usually you tell me when you find something about this.” She gathered up her boots and retreated to the low wooden stool to pull them on. She hoped the Talz were going to feed them again; First Order field rations were only barely better than Resistance protein rations. 

“I was waiting until my translation was complete. The author of the text wrote it entirely in Kittât.” Kylo’s jaw ticked as he settled himself back on the floor. “And his handwriting was _poor_. I am having a considerable amount of trouble deciphering it.”

“I thought you could read Sith,” Rey said. In the back of her head, she was thinking a little wonderingly that her circumstances _had_ changed; she had opinions about food now instead of a trembling desperation to cram as much of it as possible into her mouth.

“I can speak it,” Kylo corrected. “I am somewhat familiar with the lettering. Simple familiarity and reading differ vastly," he murmured glanced over the bond, a thin twang. His mood darkened, his brows drawing together. "As _you_ well know.” 

“Hey,” Rey snapped, shocked that she felt hurt. It was just a slight, just the same kind of superior stupid shit Kylo was always saying. She swallowed down her emotions and bent further over her boots. 

Maker, it took a long time to lace these boots up all the way and the wet leather wasn’t helping. “That’s not fair. I’m learning, okay?”

“Yes,” Kylo said immediately. His hands were still; he was just sitting there looking at her. If he spent as much reading evil Sith texts as he did just staring at her, he’d probably know a lot more than he did now, Rey thought sourly. She yanked at her laces.

“I wasn’t attempting to denigrate you,” Kylo said thinly. She touched the bond; he was stewing in sudden anger but not at her. She pressed a little deeper and caught just a bare glimpse of some fat corpse lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Her fingers fumbled at her laces. She yanked the knot tight, pushing the image away.

“Truly,” Kylo went on, pained. Rey snuck a glance up. His mouth trembled and he dragged a hand over it. “You have progressed more than adequately. I am—”

He cleared his throat.

<proud of you> he said into her head. His whole face shone with it.

“Say something in Sith,” she demanded out loud. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Her face was hot again. The cloak was probably one layer too many now that she was moving around. She started loosening the laces on her second boot. 

“Yes,” Kylo blurt. The hand hanging empty at his side clenched into a fist. “Whatever you like,” he rushed out like she was going to change her mind. She wrinkled her nose at him and considered.

“Say, ‘Next time I’ll sleep where Rey tells me to.’” 

He snorted, surprised. “Next time? And here I thought you were going to end our little excursions. After your two turns, of course.”

The boot was right there; she couldn’t _not_ do it. Rey launched it at his smug face and he sputtered, stilling it in the air like a flick of his hand.

“That didn’t sound like Sith to me,” she said sweetly. “Sounded more like you were talking out your rear thrusters.”

He smirked at her, cheeks rounding. “You should stop throwing these away,” he said and reached his hand out. Her boot fell into it neatly. “You might need them someday.”

Rey wriggled her toes in her sock. There was a hole over her littlest toe that cold air whispered right into. “Alright,” she said grudgingly. “That might have been a slight tactical miscalculation.”

“There’s four feet of snow outside,” Kylo said. His enjoyment leaked into the bond like mold creeping over Poe’s wet socks. “I’d say it was more than slight.”

“Fine,” Rey sniffed. “That was a _major_ mistake. But unless you’ve figured out a way to regenerate frostbitten toes, I need that back.”

Kylo’s smirk got wider. “Hmm,” he said. “I can’t just let an enemy surrender without some concessions. Think of what Hux would say if he found out.”

“He’d tell you to go kark yourself,” Rey said. She wriggled a little closer, still perched on the stool, and crooked her fingers subtly.

Kylo tightened his grip on the boot before it could go anywhere. He arched one eyebrow. 

She sucked in a deep breath. Poe did this sometimes. So did Finn, come to think of it. Taking her things and not giving them back until she made them. But she didn’t have her staff to whack Kylo over the head with and lightsaber wounds were more permanent that the situation called for. “Fine,” she groaned. “What do you want for it?”

“Say please.”

She choked on nothing. “Excuse me?” she demanded, coughing. “What?”

He swept his eyes over her and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Say please. It’s as simple as that, scavenger.”

Rey sputtered. “No,” she said. “Absolutely not.” There was nothing else she could throw at him. She squinted between him and the door, where there was a lot of loose powdery snow waiting outside.

“Unless you want to lose your foot, I’d reconsider,” Kylo said. “Wind chill on this planet can drop the temperature twenty degrees below the ambient amount.”

“So like a total laser brain you’re going to make me beg for my boot back? I thought you wanted us to be friends!” 

“I’m not asking you to beg,” Kylo said. Maker, he was unbearable sometimes. She was choking on the smugness rolling off of him. “Simply ask, nicely.”

Rey grit her teeth. “Or,” Kylo said as he stood, “I could go explore this Force nexus and you could stay here and wait for me.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Rey said. She swallowed down her pride like a lump of polystarch stuck in her throat. “Can I please have my boot back?”

“Of course,” Kylo murmured. He crossed the room and Rey held her hand out, but he knelt down in front of her instead. His hair fell into his eyes as he reached out for her leg.

She shifted back on the stool nervously. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Giving back your boot,” Kylo said. His eyes were dark.

“Just leave it there, then. I’m not letting you put it on like I’m some kind of invalid. I can manage it myself.”

He waited, still looking at her. Rey brushed the bond nervously and Kylo felt it. He fed her a line of patience so deep it could span a lifetime. Enough patience to drown in.

“Please,” he said. He wasn’t laughing anymore. Or smiling. She curled herself away from the bond as far as she could get and huffed, but he just waited.

His eyes were too much. Illegal. She wished he’d brought his stupid helmet. She jerked her own eyes away, Maker her face was still hot, and extended her leg. He wrapped his hand around her ankle, burning even through her thick sock, and slid her boot on. 

He bent his head down, working at the laces, and Rey clenched her hands into fists to keep from touching his hair. It still stuck up at the back. She could just smooth it down a little. A two second fix. She didn’t want him to look stupid if the Talz thought he was her friend. That was all.

Kylo tied a neat knot and rested his hands back on her ankle. He looked up at her, eyes burning. Rey shivered, clutching the cloak closer around her shoulders. The fire in the sterno barrel must have gone out; it was almost impossibly cold now.

“Cherished friends!” 

She snapped her head up. There was Talz standing in the open doorway that neither of them had noticed. She thought it was her guide from yesterday. There was something familiar in the way they stood.

“I hope your sleep was acceptable,” they said. “Our hospitality is unpracticed. Please come and receive refreshment!”

“Sure,” Rey blurt. She shot off the stool, darted past Kylo and paused near the door. He was still kneeling on the floor, staring at her. “You should brush your hair,” she said. Her heart hammered in her chest. “It looks stupid.”

His mouth opened. Rey whirled around before he could say anything, fumbled together the clasp on the cloak, and stomped out into the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear everyone who read/kudos'd/commented/bookmarked, I love you all! Your enthusiasm makes my enthusiasm increase about 1000%

**Author's Note:**

> It's just time-travel crack, guys. Really self indulgent crack.


End file.
